fifty-one

I opened my eyes.

I was in a soft bed. Curtains drawn at the window. I couldn’t tell if it was day or night.

“I don’t know.…” Mace was talking quietly on the phone in the other room. I lay there, listening. “What do I—No… not like that. It’s just… we get each other more now.… Okay. Do you want to talk to my dad again? No, that’s fine. Okay. Bye, DiDi.”

I heard her hang up with a soft click. And just like I knew she would, she didn’t knock or bother me. She just let me be. Just like I needed. I guess maybe we did get each other.

I closed my eyes.

I was in one of the guest rooms in Mace’s home. That’s where I was. In clean pajamas with little flowers all over them. I pulled the comforter up to my chin and let myself sink into the pillows and back into a place where I didn’t have to think.

I opened my eyes.

It was morning and the pink water bottle was on the nightstand, along with a note: Don’t worry about school. We told them you’re sick yesterday and today. Sandwich in the mini-fridge. Also, hydrate! M.

That darn pink water bottle.

I smiled. And then I realized it was the first time I’d smiled since…

Since.

I reached out to pick up Mace’s note—then drew my breath in and looked over to where I’d left my jeans. I slowly walked over and reached into the pocket. It was still there. A worn, folded KOB with nothing written on the front. The KOB that I’d promised to wait to read.

I broke the promise.

G—So if you kept your promise and waited to open this when I asked, we are on the hill right now and you are probably looking at me funny. Haha. Just kidding. Anyway, I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before, but I’m not going to write it. I’m going to say it out loud and you’re the first person I want to say it to. Okay, so you can put this down now and look at me. I’m ready. (And in case I forget to say it afterward, thank you. I’m really, really glad you moved here.) T

I folded it, put it back into my jeans pocket, and crawled back into bed.

Later that afternoon, I woke up partly because I was starving and partly because I could hear Mace and her mom arguing in the hall.

“—you run away and—”

“I told you why—you just didn’t—”

“I’m putting my foot down. If I’m responsible, I say she goes to school—”

“Mom, you’re not even listening—”

“Just because you and your father—”

“Mom, stop! Stop it—”

I covered my ears and buried myself deeper in the blankets.

When Mace brought me dinner in the guest room, she set it on the table and paused. Then left and came back with my backpack and a small overnight bag. She sat down on the edge of the bed. “My dad picked up some of your stuff from… anyway, he got some of your stuff. I’m sorry. You have to go to school tomorrow.”